


Worst Fears

by SiderumInCaelo



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ilvermorny, Gen, Non-graphic vomiting, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Underage, Rape Aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 17:36:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11445738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiderumInCaelo/pseuds/SiderumInCaelo
Summary: When seventh-year Ilvermorny student Credence Barebone's boggart turns into Professor Percival Graves, Newt knows there can't be a good explanation.  He still wasn't expecting one this bad.Sequel to "Teacher's Pet" by eatingcroutons.





	Worst Fears

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Teacher's Pet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9067909) by [eatingcroutons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatingcroutons/pseuds/eatingcroutons). 



> This fic was written as a sequel to "Teacher's Pet" (which I highly recommend if you're in the mood for well-written angst, just be sure to note the warnings), though I think this fic works on its own. 
> 
> Please heed the warnings on this fic too. The rape/noncon is in the past and not graphically described, but the whole fic deals with its aftermath.

At Hogwarts, boggarts would be covered in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, not Care of Magical Creatures, during third year. But at Ilvermorny, in one of the many curriculum differences between the two schools, boggarts, along with kappas, hinkypunks, and a handful of other creatures, are shoved into the Magical Creatures class curriculum, in a brief unit in the middle of year seven. Personally, Newt thinks that whoever wrote the Defense curriculum just couldn’t be bothered to spend even a week or two on anything but curses and counter-curses.

But that’s neither here nor there, and regardless of why Newt has to teach a bunch of seventeen year-olds how to defend themselves from these creatures. Not that the magic is difficult – usually the hardest part is keeping the students focused.

Today the lesson is on boggarts. Newt knows that some professors have the whole class tackle the boggart together, with each student taking turns stepping in front of it. While this method does have its advantages – having a crowd nearby generally stops the boggart from getting out of control, and it’s faster – Newt prefers to have each student approach the boggart separately, with only himself present. It helps keep distractions to a minimum, and, more to the point, means that the whole class doesn’t find out what each student is most afraid of.

The lesson goes well, with everyone managing to cast a successful _riddikulus_ and no extraordinary fears, and Newt’s feeling ready to call this day a success when the last student, Credence Barebone, enters.

He gave the class a collective instruction on how to fight a boggart at the beginning of the lesson, so he simply asks Credence if he’s ready, and, upon getting an affirmative answer, opens the case containing the boggart.

Credence is definitely one of Newt’s quieter students, even verging into standoffish, but he’s never had much trouble mastering the coursework, so Newt isn’t more concerned about Credence tackling a boggart than any of the other students.

This lack of concern proves to have been utterly unjustified when the boggart condenses into the form of Professor Percival Graves. Credence freezes, and even from across the room Newt can hear his breath growing shallow and panicked. He doesn’t react at all when Newt calls his name, just stares at the boggart, which is continuing to move closer to him.

Clearly Credence is in no shape to cast any spell at the moment, so Newt crosses the room as quickly as he can, putting himself between the boggart and Credence. He forces the boggart back in the case and is making sure the latches are secure when he hears a retching noise and spins around. Credence has collapsed to the floor, on his hands and knees, with a puddle of vomit under him.

Newt doesn’t know how he’s supposed to react to this situation.

He supposes the first priority is Credence’s health. “Do you need to go to the infirmary?” he asks. Credence shakes his head no, and Newt decides to take him at his word, for now. He sits down on the floor, keeping a comfortable distance between himself and Credence. He figures towering over Credence won’t make him feel any safer.

Credence has stopped retching, so Newt vanishes the mess and conjures a glass of water, which he carefully levitates over to Credence. “Try to drink some, if you think you can keep it down. Or at least rinse out your mouth,” he suggests. 

Credence takes a couple of shaky swallows, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand afterwards.

Newt knows what he has to ask next, but it doesn’t make the prospect of asking any more appealing. Still, he sucks in a breath and forces the words out. “Why are you afraid of Professor Graves?”

Credence shakes his head and hunches in on himself even further, which is about the response Newt expected, but he can’t let it go. “I have a responsibility towards the safety of my students, you included. If a professor has done something to make you frightened, I need to know about it.”

“Please don’t make me say,” Credence says still looking at the floor, and he sounds so small and scared that Newt feels like the worst person in the world for pushing.

Newt thinks for a second, then says, “How about I ask you yes/no questions? That way you don’t have to say anything, just nod or shake your head. Would that be easier?” Credence shrugs, but it’s not a refusal so Newt counts it as progress. “Do you think you can try?” After a moment Credence nods, and though he’s still looking at the floor Newt thinks he sits up just a bit straighter.

Of course, this arrangement means that Newt actually has to think of all the different reasons Graves could be Credence’s boggart. He starts with the first scenario his imagination conjured up. “Did he hit you? Or otherwise physically hurt you?” Credence shakes his head. “Yell at you?” Another shake. “Threaten you?” and “Insult you?” both get a _no_ as well.

The scenarios his imagination is coming up with now are even worse, but he knows he has to ask. “Did he touch you in a way you weren’t comfortable with?” Credence freezes, even stops breathing for a moment. Newt adds, “Or make you touch him in a way you weren’t comfortable with?” and Credence slowly nods his head.

Fuck.

Newt takes a breath, and considers his next words carefully. “Whatever he did to you, it wasn’t your fault, Credence. It was very brave of you to tell me.” Credence doesn’t look like he agrees, but Newt doesn’t think this is the time to push that issue. “I have to report this. I’ll go to the headmaster first, and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement – or whatever the equivalent is over here – will probably get involved, too. You don’t have to come with me – you can if you want to, of course – but they’ll want to ask you questions at some point, I’m sure.”

“I don’t think I want to be there when you report it.”

“Right, that’s totally fine. Do… do you want to tell me any more details about what happened? You don’t have to, but it might help when I report it.”

Much to Newt’s surprise, Credence starts talking. “A few weeks ago, I went to his office to ask him to sign my permission form for the MACUSA field trip, since my mother – wouldn’t. He said –” Credence breaks off to swallow, but keeps going. “He said since he was doing me a favor, I should do one for him. He had me kneel in front of him, then told me to – he told me to put my mouth on his –” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but Newt doesn’t need him to. “He signed my form when he was done, and let me leave.”

“Has he done anything like that again?” Newt asks.

Credence shakes his head. “I’ve been doing my best to avoid him.”

That’s – well, not a relief, nothing is a relief at this point – but better than the alternative, at least. “I assume you haven’t been to the infirmary since?”

“Why would I need to go? He didn’t injure me.”

Now it's Newt’s turn not to make eye contact. “He could have given you an … infection. Like syphilis,” he adds, when Credence still looks confused.

“Oh,” Credence responds. For some reason _this_ line of conversation makes his cheeks flush pink.

“I’d like you to consider going; your health is important. I can take you now, or you can go later, if you prefer.” 

“Now. I want to get it over with.” 

“All right.” Credence stands up and Newt follows him to the door, careful not to get too close to him. They walk in silence until they reach the infirmary doors, where Newt asks, “Do you want me to come in with you?”

Credence nods, then asks, “Can you tell the mediwitch what happened? I don’t want to have to say it.”

“Of course,” he replies, and pushes open the door.

* * *

Newt explains the situation to the mediwitch, then goes to the headmaster and tells him what has happened, and insists on joining the headmaster and the team of Aurors MACUSA sent to bring Percival Graves into custody. When the Aurors stun Graves before he can even reach for his wand, Newt dares hope that the worst is over.

He is proved wrong when, under the standard series of spells performed on possibly dangerous prisoners, the unconscious form of Graves shifts into that of Gellert Grindelwald.

* * *

Newt volunteers to be the one to tell Credence of this new development. He doesn’t really want to – at this point, all he wants is to do is to return to his quarters and start drinking, and maybe not stop until he’s no longer capable of coherent thought – but he thinks Credence will take the news best coming from him. Credence had trusted him enough to say what Graves – Grindelwald – had done to him, after all.

Credence is still in the infirmary, thankfully, though the mediwitch seems to be done examining him. Newt says hello and conjures a chair to sit down next to Credence’s bedside. He’s trying to work out the best way to start, when Credence asks, “Did they arrest him, Professor Scamander?”

“Credence, it turns out that the person who hurt you was not, in fact, Professor Graves.”

Credence freezes. “What?” he asks, his voice shaky.

“The real Professor Graves was captured and impersonated, we think for at least the past few months.” That’s little more than a guess, really, but it’s the best anyone has at the moment. “The Aurors inadvertently un-did the transfiguration when they took the impostor into custody.”

“Who was it?”

Newt had selfishly been hoping Credence wouldn’t ask, even though it’s an obvious question. He doesn’t want to have to tell Credence that not only was he sexually assaulted, he was sexually assaulted by arguably the most evil wizard of their time, and he hadn’t even known.

He forces himself to spit the words out. “Gellert Grindelwald.”

“Why – why would he do that to me?”

 _Because he enjoys demonstrating his power over other people? Because he’s a sadist? Simply because he could?_ Newt suspects all of those things may be true, but he doesn’t want to say so. “I don’t know, Credence. I’m sorry.”

“Is Professor Graves all right? The real one, I mean.”

At least the question has a nicer answer. Newt nods, and says, “They took him to hospital, but think he’ll be fine after a few days rest and some food.” Physically, at least. Merlin knows what kind of psychological damage Grindelwald managed to inflict.

They’re silent for long enough that even Newt can tell it’s awkward – what the hell is he supposed to say in this situation? – when Credence clears his throat. “Thank you, Professor Scamander. For – for everything, really. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”

“I just did what anyone should have done,” Newt replies, shaking his head.

Credence shrugs. “Maybe, but you were kind about it. I appreciate that,” he says, and Newt thinks he can see his cheeks pinking, just a bit.

It’s reassuring to know that Credence, at least, thinks he’s handled this well. Still, he’s not sure how to respond to the praise, so he changes the subject.

“I assume the mediwitch talked to you about counseling options?” Credence nods his head. “Good, I hope you’ll consider it. But if you ever want to talk – about this or something else – in the future, my door’s always open, all right?”

Credence looks surprised by the offer, but good-surprised, Newt thinks, or at least hopes. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you,” Credence responds, and that’s really all Newt can hope for.

“I’ll let you get some rest now,” Newt says, preparing to leave, because despite the early hour Credence looks exhausted enough to nod off then and there. Which is hardly a surprise, Newt thinks.

“Have a good evening, Professor." 

“You too Credence.”

* * *

Credence took the news about Grindelwald pretty well, Newt reflects as he walks back to his quarters. Obviously shaken by it at first, but he’d had the presence of mind to ask about Graves, and seemed relieved to hear he was all right. And he’d seemed genuine when he said he’d consider Newt’s offer to listen in the future, if he wanted to talk.

Credence is still a ways from recovered, Newt knows, but he thinks he’ll get there.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a darker fic than anything else I've written, so I hope it turned out okay.
> 
> Also, if you've got an idea for a better title, *please* let me know.


End file.
